After Ever
by jackptollers
Summary: In the confusion of time travel, do happily-ever-afters even exist? Hermione mistakenly finds out when she is thrust 50 years in the past. And who does she meet? Tom Riddle of course.
1. Once Upon A Time

(A/N) Here is my first full length piece. Enjoy!

Love,

Jack

* * *

_"A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it."_

-Jean de La Fontaine_  
_

* * *

**Once upon a Time...**

She couldn't tell how long she was in the rush of timelessness. It could have been five minutes or five days. She saw the colors and thread of time itself, and felt years whistle past her ears. Then, the funnel of the vortex began to expand. A speck of light could be seen at it's epicenter, coming closer and closer. There was not even time to cringe before she was painfully slammed into the hard ground.

Hermione was lying spread-eagle on the floor of a stone corridor. She started to sit up, but collapsed in a haze of pain. She stole a quick glance around and realized the stone corridor belonged to Hogwarts. At a loss as to what she should do, Hermione slid her body up the wall into a sitting position, and tried to organize her thoughts.

She could not think about where she had come from. No, that was too painful a memory to deal with, especially so soon. She could not plan what her next move was because she honestly hadn't the faintest as to where to start. With a dawning realization discovered she was stuck. Not just stuck meaning she was confused, but quite literally stuck, as in she was not exactly able to stand up.

She stared at the ghostly light flickering on the wall in front of her cast from a few torches lining the corridor. There were no windows near her to tell if it was night or day, but from the lack of students and the silence, she knew it was either night or mealtime. The cold air stung the numerous cuts that covered her body when a blustery wind blew around the corner. Hermione did not realize she was drifting off to sleep until a smooth voice above her made her jump about an inch in the air.

"What is going on here?" She cringed and slowly raised her head, somehow already knowing to whom the cold voice belonged.

The stormy grey eyes of Tom Marvolo Riddle probed her chocolate ones with a glare of suspicion. She used every shred of strength left in her to rise both painfully and shakily to her feet. It was all she could do to stay conscious. Hermione had a sudden urge to curse the unsuspecting boy into oblivion. Out of sheer instinct, her hand twitched toward her wand. Hermione prayed that her little slip would go unnoticed, but then again what could get past Tom Riddle.

Voldemort drew his own wand before she could even process what was happening. She had not even had time to wrap her head around what had just happened, making it impossible to just _think. _Hermione quickly followed suit, whipping her wand from the inside of her torn robes with her uninjured hand. With a dull sense of relief, she saw that it survived her not so smooth landing unbroken.

With a start, she reached for her chest in panic and felt for her time turner. In a pang of painful realization, she cut her finger on the edge of the now broken and useless time turner. She did not have long to process this before Tom reacted to the unanticipated hostility.

"_Expelliarmus_," she shouted, saying the first spell that came to mind.

"_Protego_," he countered before the spell had hardly even left her lips. She jumped to the side so that the deflected curse would not hit her as it rebounded off his shield.

Shock was prominent on Tom's face. Hermione realized that she had no chance of winning due to her injuries and extreme fatigue. She held up her arm in a sign of surrender. Obviously, alone in a dark corridor late at night with Lord Voldemort was not a situation Hermione had ever wanted to find herself in. Voldemort was not ignorant to the fact she did not lower her wand all the way.

"Y-you just took me by surprise is all," she faltered. He arched a dark eyebrow, but did lower his wand. His unwavering confidence was slightly unnerving.

Hermione suddenly realized how awful she must look. Riddle followed her gaze as she looked down out herself, and he let out an audible gasp. Her curly brown hair was tangled and matted with blood, and a deep gash ran the length of her cheek. Her wrist hung at an odd angle, and was obviously broken in multiple places. Her odd clothes were torn and smeared with blood. An assortment scrapes and bruises colored her exposed skin. She grimaced as she saw him take in her ragged appearance, fearing that he would jump to the worst conclusion. _Well,_ she thought,_ his guesses are probably not even close as bad as the truth._

"What the hell happened to you?" he asked tonelessly. She did not respond. It was one of those rare occasions when Hermione Granger could not think of a suitable answer. The conversation played out in her mind, and was something along the lines of '_Well, you're actually the future Dark Lord. Well you and your Death Eater pals_ _raged war_ _on Hogwarts. We__ were outnumbered__, and your followers murdered all of my friends. I am alive only because they thought I was dead when because I was in a full body-binding curse. Now I have absolutely no one, seeing as you even killed my innocent_ _muggle __parents.'_ A single tear rolled down her gashed and bloody cheek. Hermione just turned and walked away, praying he would not follow. She had taken only a few steps before Tom easily caught up with her. He grabbed her shoulder and spun her around to face him. Whether knowingly or not, Riddle jostled her injured arm as he turned her, and she could not stop the gasp that escaped from her clenched teeth.

She turned to look at him in defiance, but what she saw caught her off guard. Memories of the battle came rushing back; Ginny being taken down by Bellatrix, Ron being murdered beside her by Lucius Malfoy; Harry being killed by Voldemort as his last fight finally ended in defeat. Her eyes closed, and she swayed into a dead faint. The image of her enemy, who looked so much like her now dead best friend, finally sent her over the edge into unconsciousness.

The sight of Tom Riddle carrying an unconscious girl through the corridors was certain arouse curiosity. Thankfully not many people were around to question him as he made his way toward the Hospital Wing, carrying the still nameless girl in his arms. Tom reached the Hospital Wing and kicked the door open. The young Madam Pomfrey gaped as Tom Riddle brought the still lifeless Hermione through the door. She quickly hastened him over to an unoccupied hospital bed. He laid her down gently on the creaking mattress. He noticed that she was extremely light, as if she had lost too much weight over much too short a time. He took one last look at the girl before he quickly turned tail and fled from the hospital wing.

As she slowly regained consciousness, Hermione heard a familiar voice saying her name from somewhere above. She blinked twice, and then opened her eyes to see none other than a young Albus Dumbledore peering at her over the top of his half_**-**_moon spectacles. "I believe you have a letter for me, Miss Granger."

* * *

(A/N) Ok people, this was extremely short, I know. Well, the first chapters always are. It gets better, I promise. I will update once I get five reviews to see if I should keep going. Alerts would also be lovely :)

Thanks for reading,  
Jack


	2. There Was a Boy and a Girl

_"I have decided to stick with love. Hate is too great a burden to bear."_

- Martin Luther King

* * *

**…There Was A Boy and A Girl…**

"_Headmaster?"_ Hermione asked confusedly. She stammered to cover up her mistake. If she really had just seen Tom Riddle, Albus Dumbledore would not be headmaster yet. She had practically _memorized _Hogwarts, a History, yet the time she actually _needed_ the knowledge she messed it up. "I-I mean… that is to say that—"

"Miss Granger, I do believe you have a message for me, judging by the fact that you are holding a letter with my name on it." Hermione looked at her formerly empty hand. There was a letter addressed to A.P.W.B. Dumbledore. Without talking she handed it to him, hoping there was some sort of an explanation in its contents as to what she was supposed to be doing.

"Ah, I see," said Dumbledore calmly after he had read the letter.

_Is that all he can say?_ Hermione thought, already growing impatient. Dumbledore saw the look on her face and smiled knowingly. "It is a letter from my future-self," he explained in a cheerful, and to Hermione, seemingly flippant tone.

Hermione was about to proclaim this to be impossible since he was dead in the future, but she quickly caught herself, remembering what Dumbledore himself had once told her. His voice seemed to echo across the many years since her third year. '_Mysterious thing, time. Powerful, and when meddled with, dangerous.'_ Hermione realized that she could have just changed the entire course of the future.

"This letter explains why you are here, and how you got here, Miss Granger." Hermione had never seen the letter in her entire life._ Dumbledore_, she thought to herself. His name was the explanation.

"Sir, how _did _I get here exactly? I mean, I remember using the time turner, but I didn't know how far back it would take me. Everyone back home is gone, or enslaved by the Dark Lord. The Death Eaters trapped me and we had already lost the battle. Using the time turner was the only way to get away. And if _I_ don't even know why I am here, how does—did, Professor Dumbledore? I mean you—I mean… oh, you get what I mean. And professor, w-what year is it?" she asked; the realization that she was years in the past finally beginning to dawn on her. Dumbledore told her that she had somehow landed in 1944. _Hang on, if my calculations are correct..._ Her mental voice trailed off as she realized that it was only one year after Tom Riddle had opened the Chamber of Secrets. _September 15, 1944._Wow.

"How am I going to get back?" was her next question. She immediately did not like the look on his face. His expression was almost wary, and she feared she already knew what he would say.

"Miss Granger, I am sorry to inform you that there has not yet been invented a means to travel forward in time. I am sorry to have to say this, but I believe that, for the time being, you are stuck in this year." His calm tone was infuriating.

"But I have got to get back? There was a _war_ going on right now, sir. Harry needs me, he is the only one who can stop the dark lord and he needs me to be there with him," Hermione said as politely as she could, hoping she did not come across as outspoken. _Harry,_ she thought sadly_._ Harry was dead. He was gone now to a place where no one could help him_._ Could anything she did in this time possibly change the future?

_Mysterious thing, time. Powerful, and when meddled with, dangerous._ Dumbledore's words flashed like a warning sign as if he was actually standing next to her again. Oh wait, he actually was. His words had echoed across a greater number of years than she had thought. Before, when Hermione had had the urge to kill Tom Riddle, she was acting completely on impulse. Her mind and her emotions were in turmoil. Hermione realized that she could have changed everything. When she went back, _if_ she went back, the world might have been a completely different place. Harry and Ron might not have even been born. _Hermione Granger_ might not have even been born.

Hermione was pulled out of her reverie when Dumbledore clearing his throat to reclaim her attention. "Miss Granger, it seems that you will not be returning home for quite some time. I think it would be wise for you to matriculate in Hogwarts so as to blend in, at least until we can find a way to transport you back to your own time." He sounded so calm and collected, and she felt like screaming. It was a_ mistake_. Did he think she _wanted_ to be stuck in bloody 1944? Dumbledore said no more on the matter, and she could tell that the subject was closed.

"While you are here I would think it best for you to adopt a new name. The future can be so easily altered. Your presence here might change more than we know." Dumbledore's tone of sympathy did nothing for her. She was scared, lost, and utterly alone. However, she had learned over the years to trust Dumbledore's advice.

"What about Hermia? My parents were big on Shakespeare," she replied. It was close enough to her real name that she would not get too confused.

"It's settled then. You shall be Hermia… Hermia Dumbledore," said Dumbledore. Hermione's eyes widened at his proposition. "If you would like, you could be my great niece."

"Th-that would be wonderful!" said Hermione, overcome with his offer.

"Sir, there is just one more thing I don't understand. How did your future-self get this letter? I don't remember ever seeing it before."

With a wink and a cheerful little smile he said, "Oh, it is not from my future-self. You just told me everything I need to know yourself."

It was almost one o'clock in the morning when Hermione made her way towards the Gryffindor common room. A very irritated, yet very young Madam Pomfrey had just released her from the hospital wing after healing the worst of her injuries. She was going over her conversation with the future headmaster in her mind. She actually was not angry that he had tricked her into telling him everything; it actually was reassuring to know that she could talk to at least one person.

But she was glad that the key things were withheld, the most forefront being that it was Tom Riddle who was the future Dark Lord. As she walked, she found herself once more worrying about how she would get back. Before she left, Dumbledore told her that he would do everything in his power to help her get back. Hermione wanted to believe him. Really, she did. The only problem was that it had never been done before in the history of wizard-kind.

It seemed like the day would never end. Hermione was overcome by the helplessness of her situation, and her lassitude crushed her down into a dull stupor that still held a pulsating ache of pain both emotionally and physically. There she was, walking through the dark castle, with no one beside her.

No matter what she was going through, Harry, Ron, or Ginny had always been there for her. Here, in this unfamiliar place, she had no one. She was inevitably and incontrovertibly alone. Her friends were dead. Voldemort had won. She was stuck almost 50 years in the past, unable to grieve. Hermione felt so trapped that for the first time in a very long time, Hermione Granger began to cry. She was in so much emotional turmoil that she could hardly make herself keep walking. She dropped to the floor, sitting with her arms around her knees, knowing she could not abstain from the unavoidable flow of tears she knew was coming.

"So it's you again," a cold voice said from behind her. Hermione jumped up, her hand flying to her pocket. Her pugnacity and battle reflexes were not forgotten from the war. Her wand was not there. She looked up to see the Dark Lord's counterpart sneering, her wand clutched in his left hand.

The strangest thing of all was that she did not care. She really did not _care_ if Tom Riddle killed her. She completely capitulated. She was done; done fighting, done caring… he raised his wand, pointing it directly at her forehead. She gave a small, peaceful smile, closed her eyes, took a deep breath, and waited for the end…

* * *

(A/N) Hey guys!

I REALLY need suggestions. **I do not know if I should keep going, so let me know!**

Thanks,

Jack


	3. Who Both Had an Opinion on Love

(A/N) Hey everyone! I am back! I know this is changing between POVs, but it's just how I write.

Thanks!

Jack

* * *

**Who Both Had an Opinion on Love.**

Was she... _smiling? _For the first time in his life, Tom could not find something adequate to say. For all she knew, he could be about to kill her. The small girl's expression became puzzled.

Hermione was confused. Why was she not dead yet? Or was she? She opened her eyes to check. Sure enough, Tom Riddle was still standing there staring. She quickly looked away, grateful that he had not yet been able to look at her. Her eyes were puffy, and tear streaks were visible on her cheeks.

Hermione realized that she was once again alone with the nefarious Dark Lord. Abruptly she was afraid. Not afraid exactly, she was more wary. Hermione had already lost so much that her life did not hold much value for her anymore. So why was she suddenly so frightened?

Without warning, he threw her wand back to her. She was so surprised that she almost dropped it. Then he said, "You're not going to attack me again, are you?" he asked. When she did not say anything, he continued talking. "I'm Tom. Tom Riddle," he in the same toneless voice as before. His apathetic demeanor was beginning to wear on her nerves. Tom was slightly baffled by the abject fearfulness so blatantly displayed in her expression. She looked even more frightened than when he had his wand pointed right at her. He was trying to decide if she was extremely slow or barking mad. He concluded that she was both when she finally spoke. "Hermia Dumbledore," said Hermione. Hermione tried to shake off her fear in order to answer him without her voice shaking. "Pleasure to meet you."

Without another word, Hermione turned and fled. She was stopped by a hand on her shoulder. He spun her around to face him, but surprisingly it was softer than he had before. Hermione let out a small whimper and tried to back away. This was what she was afraid of; she was afraid to look at him and see the faces of the hundreds of people he would one day murder. Seeing him made the deaths of her friends flash before her eyes. She had not been prepared for this. She had expected effrontery remarks and qualms, or even aggression and hostility. But this left a much deeper wound than that which a simple confrontation would have given her.

Hermione found herself backing into a wall. She was shaking so badly that she slid down the stone wall until she was sitting on the floor. Unexpectedly, Tom knelt beside her. "Are you alright?" he asked, sounding almost interested. If he did not know himself better, he would have thought he sounded concerned for the girl who he had found. _Concerned_, he thought,_ since when am _I _concerned. I am not so much a fool as to feel for others._ Nobody had ever reacted this strongly to meeting him. What had he done? Hermione tried to lie, but she had absolutely nothing left.

"No, I'm not" she said simply. She slid further away, only managing to flatten herself more closely against the wall. Tom, bothered enough for one day, shrugged and turned away, walking the opposite direction toward the Great Hall, the same impassive expression coming across his face again. Hermione just sat there and began cry. It was all just too much. She did not hear the footsteps approaching her. All of a sudden, someone knelt put their hand on her shoulder. Hermione looked up to see a girl about her own age looking at her with concern. For the second time, though from _very_ different people, she was ok.

"Are you alright?" asked the girl. Hermione just shook her head. The other girl realized that she was not going to get anything more out of her. "I'm Minerva McGonagall," said the young woman. Hermione was more relieved than she was shocked at seeing a familiar face. The 18-year-old Minerva had wavy, dark brown hair that fell pas her shoulders, and she did not look as strict as her future-self. Hermione noticed that she was also quite pretty, and she wondered what her Transfiguration professor was like when she was practically a girl.

"Hermia Dumbledore," said Hermione, wiping her eyes on the hem of her robes. Professor McGonagall, or Minerva, as Hermione would have to start calling her, offered a hand to the crying girl. This time she took it. Minerva was not one to pry, for which Hermione was very thankful. However, she still asked the obvious questions that would not have been difficult to answer if she was anyone but herself.

"So you're related to Professor Dumbledore? He is my _favorite_ teacher. You don't really think about professors having families and lives outside of the classroom," Minerva said, smiling. Hermione could not help but laugh at the irony. She nodded in agreement. "Yes, he's my uncle. I was home schooled until now. I wanted to take my NEWTS at school for a change."

"Why were you crying then?" Minerva asked, but then grimaced. "Sorry I don't mean to pry, you just seem really upset. You don't have to tell me of you don't want to," she said kindly. Hermione decided that she really liked her future teacher.

"Oh, no, that's alright. I just really miss my family. I won't see them for a very long time." A longer time than she could say. They were all... dead.

"Oh, I understand. But you can see them in a few months at Christmas," said a slightly confused Minerva in an attempt to console her.

"Well, actually not. You see..." Hermione felt like she owed the kind girl the truth. Well, some of it anyway. She took a deep breath and said, "My parents and friends were all killed. Where I come from, there is a big war going on." Then Hermione remembered her history. "In the war against Grindelwald." Minerva looked horrified.

"Oh Hermia, I am so sorry! I can't imagine what you are going through! How long has it been since...?" Minerva said all of this in a rush of sympathy. Hermione actually felt good after telling someone. However, she still had to keep up an act. It would not make sense to tell her that they had been murdered an hour or two ago. Or almost 50 years in the future, depending on how you looked at it.

"At the beginning of the summer. Sometimes it just springs up on me all of a sudden. I didn't mean to lie about the NEWTS thing; it's just that I-"

"Oh no, it's ok," Minerva cut her off. "Really, it is. I would be the same way if I were you. It must be really hard to talk about." Hermione was grateful for Minerva being here for her, and told her so. "Thanks for listening Minerva; it is good to finally talk about it with someone. Besides my uncle I mean," Hermione said gratefully, and her sincerity was evident on her face.

"Of course. And call me Minnie, all of my friends do," she said. Hermione smiled a true smile for what felt like the first time in years. The new friends made their way toward Gryffindor Tower. Before, all Hermione had wanted was to be left alone in the girl's dormitory and cry. Now Hermione began to feel like she might somehow live through this crushing ordeal after all.

Tom Riddle made his way toward his dungeon dormitory, thoroughly confused. And that _really_ irritated him. Tom hated not knowing something. Right now, the girl was that something. What had made her react so weirdly? When he had her trapped and weaponless with his wand pointed at her, she had looked_ peaceful_. Then, when he _gave_ the girl her wand back, she refused to look at him and acted as if he was going to murder her! What was wrong with her? Tom just could not figure her out. Hermia...that was her name. Hermia _Dumbledore_. Okay, so now he knew where the madness came from. Typical. That lunatic with the disturbingly blue eyes had ruined his peace and quiet this year by introducing his niece or something to the world. He was finally thinking he _might _have a normal year. But no, the Chamber fiasco hadn't been enough. Now he had some crazy old lunatic's niece to deal with.

Alright, so Tom knew that wasn't fair. The man _was_ a genius, even if Tom did not agree with him on some things. Actually, they disagreed on just about everything non-academic related. Dumbledore and his stupid obsession with _friendship_ and _love_. The words seemed all wrong when Tom thought them. Why would he set himself up to be torn down?

However, not only was Dumbledore extremely smart, but he was able to see past Tom's mask of indifference. He was able to ingratiate himself on everyone else, but that old coot remained hadn't forgotten the first time they had met. How the old man knew what he was up to, Tom would never know. Now he had an intriguing niece to plague his thoughts late at night. Still... he had to admit to himself that she did pose an interesting study. Yes, that was it. Tom would make it his goal to find out as much about Hermia Dumbledore as he could. As a start, why was she even here? For some unknown reason, Tom felt anger toward the girl. Why must something always get in his way, and why was she that something. He would have to talk to Malfoy about it later, but for now, he had his own work to do.

As it turned out, Minerva was Head Girl, which is why she was out of bed so late at night. Hermione was given the exact bed as in her own time, seeing as it was the only one unoccupied in the 7th year dorm. As Hermione climbed into the familiar bed, she tried to pretend everything was normal. But every time she closed her eyes, images of Harry and Ron dying appeared in front of her closed eyelids. The tautology haunted her already troubled mind. Her eyes swam with tears, and she was afraid of waking the others. She cast a silencing spell around her bed and began to cry again. Once she had cried herself out, she finally fell into a fitful sleep. She tossed and turned for hours, awaking many times throughout the night.

_She was lying on the edge of the Forbidden Forest, unable to move because of the full body-binding curse that had rebounded and hit her. However, she could still see everything happening right in front of her. She saw Molly and Arthur Weasley, who were as much parents to her as her own, being driven back into the forest as they were overwhelmed and outnumbered by Death Eaters. Hermione felt so helpless that she nearly passed out from the strain and energy she was using trying to break the curse that held her in place. _

_Arthur and Molly were surrounded by a circle of Death Eaters. Instead of dying fighting and departing in a blaze of glory like most Gryffindors would, Molly and Arthur Weasley chose to spend their last moments on this earth gazing into each other's eyes. Hermione saw the love there, in that one look, and knew in that moment that this was the one thing Voldemort would never be able to understand._

_She saw the green rays of light, and watched as her second parents died in each other's arms. Hermione was internally screaming so loud that she did not register the fact that the body-binding curse was finally broken. Her grief, her love, had overpowered the spell. But all she could do was mourn the two people that she had grown to love as her own family. Hermione began sobbing, realizing that she could move again. She didn't care. All she could see was the same scene playing over and over in her mind and in her heart: Two people so in love that even death could not wrench them apart._

Hermione woke up crying. Before she knew it, Minerva had appeared in her nightgown. She out an arm around Hermione, and eventually Hermione quieted down.

"Thanks Minnie," said Hermione.

"No problem Hermia. Was it a bad dream?" asked Minerva.

"Well yes…and no." Hermione saw Minerva's confused expression in the dim light filtering in through the window. She knew Minerva would not pry, but decided on telling her anyway. "It was about the war. Everyone in my entire family was killed, and I was remembering two people who were like parents to me. My parents are—were muggles, and these people were like my magical parents. They died in each other's arms, and it was their own kind of happy ending. I don't think they would have had it any other way."

Tears began to leak out of her eyes again. "I hope to be like them someday. If I ever get back to…if I ever get the chance, I want to write their story. I mean, their love was so solid that nothing could tear them apart. I guess it is really true that love conquers all." Hermione finished her story, realizing that her story had become a soliloquy and Minnie would have no idea what she was talking about. To her surprise, Minnie did understand.

"I can see what you are saying. Everyone deserves their own kind of happy ending. I guess those people really did get theirs. Hermia, I am so sorry that you have to go through this."

"Again, thanks so much. I really don't know what to say." Hermione began to feel immensely stupid for not making sure the silencing charm would continue after she fell asleep, but she was also glad that she hadn't. Hermione knew that only someone like Minerva would be so kind to someone they had only just met. "I'm so sorry for waking you up."

"Oh it's fine, I was about to get up anyway." Hermione smiled at Minerva, knowing that she was obviously not about to get up seeing as it was almost 3:00 in the morning.

"Again, thanks. Now try to go back to sleep. Unless, of course, you were planning to get up at 3:30 in the morning?" Hermione laughed, earning a benign smile from Minerva. Minnie rolled her eyes; something that Hermione had never seen her do in their entire seven years of acquaintance.

"All right, all right. G 'night...morning...whatever it is," Minerva said, her voice already trailing off.

Hermione fell to sleep almost immediately, dreaming of happier times with one brown-haired boy and a whole bunch of redheads. She dreamt of her family.

* * *

(A/N) Hey everyone!

This chapter was somewhat slow, but I wanted to get it in. I have some H/T coming up in the near future, I promise!

Jack


	4. They Had A Plan

(A/N) Hey everyone. As you can see I decided to keep going. Here is the next chapter. Keep in mind that I wrote this in a state of complete writers block.

* * *

**They Both Had a Plan**

Hermione woke up the next morning to a flurry of activity. All around her, girls were rushing to get dressed in time to eat breakfast before class. Hermione, usually an early riser, forgot where she was, and jumped up in panic. Then she remembered where she was. In 1944. Not Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil, or Ginny, but unfamiliar faces looked her way. The only person she recognized was Minnie. Minnie hastened forward to make introductions.

"Cedrella, Violet, Augusta, this is Hermia Dumbledore; Hermia... Cedrella Weasley, Violet Brown, Augusta Longbottom." One of the girls stepped forward. "Hi I'm Augusta Longbottom."Augusta was shorter than she was, and had her dark brown curls cropped just beneath her chin. She had green eyes the exact same shade of hazel as Neville. Hermione smiled at the girl kindly.

"It's nice to meet you," Hermione said politely. She looked like a friendly girl, and Hermione found herself wanting to get to know them.

Soon afterward, Hermione and the girls were walking side by side to Potions.

She encountered the caretaker, Apollyon Pringle, who Molly Weasley had once mentioned. He had once punished Arthur for being out at night with Molly. He was strict, but not odd like Filch. He greeted her, and she could see that he had already categorized her in his 'good list.'

As she entered the classroom, Hermione was not surprised to see a younger professor Slughorn at the front of the class. She almost giggled as she took in his appearance. His hair was a flaxen gingery blond, and he had his walrus-like mustache.

Dumbledore had obviously told the staff about his "niece" for he called out in his booming voice, "Hermia, you can sit by dear Mr. Riddle. I expect you shall get along swimmingly."

Hermione froze, and willed her ears to be mistaken. When she looked around and saw that everyone was looking toward her expectantly, she slowly filed toward the seat in the front of the room, feeling like she was walking to the gallows. She looked up from her shoes only when she was at her new seat. Curious gray eyes met her own. Visibly flinching, Hermione took the seat next to her best friends' killers. It was terrifying yet intriguing. Wow, there really must be something wrong with her.

Class had begun, and Hermione found herself lost in her work as she once had been. It was such a normal routine that she felt sick to her stomach. She longed for Harry and Ron next to her, even when they ruined their potions and ended up making their table smell like spoiled eggs. Despite that, everything was relatively normal.

Well, that was until a pale white hand shot out to stop her hand from putting skinned shrivelfig into her potion. Her hand jerked back automatically.

"That will ruin the potion, you know," said Tom in a drawling tone. He looked bored and superior at the same time.

"No it will not," snapped Hermione, who knew for a fact from the Half Blood Prince's book that the spider antennae would balance it out but leave it with an extra boost. She lightly tossed in the shrivelfig with an air of casualty, aware that Tom was watching her. Then her potion turned the exact shade of jade it should be.

Hermione watched in satisfaction as Tom's expression changed from a superior smirk to a look of astonishment. It was Hermione's turn to smirk as Slughorn came around and declared her potion the best in the class. Tom had literally frozen in shock, and Hermione could almost feel the waves of coldness radiating off of him. She did not know whether she should be terrified or whether to burst out laughing.

She settled for sitting still and trying not to look too pleased with herself.

A few hours later, she headed toward Defense Against the Dark Arts trailed by Cedrella. Hermione smiled at Ron's great-great-grandmother. Thinking of the Weasleys made her sad. Ron especially... she had thought for a while that there might be hope for the two of them to be together. Like the rest of the Weasley clan, Cedrella had flaming red hair. Cedrella reminded her so much of her great-granddaughter, Ginny. Hermione smiled nostalgically. Her soft brown eyes were dim with boredom at the thought of enduring another class. As it was, D.A.D.A was their last class of the day. Professor Galatea Merrythought greeted her kindly as she stepped into the classroom.

"You must be Miss Dumbledore," said the professor, "You can take the seat next to Miss Weasley."

Hermia followed Cedrella excitedly to the row of desks on the edge of the room. Unfortunately, it was right next to the window. Hermione usually tried to avoid a seat by the window in order to pay attention. She had learned in her first year that she had a tendency to gaze off over the beautiful grounds and let her thoughts wonder. Today, however, she trained her gaze straight ahead.

The disconcerting thing, though, was that Tom Riddle was seated right behind her. She could not help it; it just felt like he was staring at her. But when she glanced back, he was staring off in the other direction. She internally scolded herself for being so paranoid.

As it turned out, Professor Merrythought was the best teacher she had all day.

Hermione walked back to the common room in silence. She had to admit that she really didn't have much hope. Not for getting back at least.

She headed straight up to the girl's dormitory. She had not yet unpacked, so she decided to do it before she went to the Great Hall for dinner. As it was, Dumbledore had sent her an entire trunk full of things she might need. Most of the things looked like they had come out of her trunk at home. But one of the things stuck out completely. It was a ball gown. It was one of the most beautiful things she had ever seen. Pulling it out of the trunk, she held it up. It was tyrian purple with straps about an inch wide and a scoop neck. The back plunged down almost all the way down her back. It flared out past the corset, until it reached her toes. Slowly, still holding the beautiful garment in her hands, she stood up.

Just then, Minerva entered.

"It's about time or di- Hermia that's beautiful! Where did you get it? It looks like it's from Twilfit & Tatting's. I got mine from Madam Malkin's, here I'll show it to you," Minnie said in a rush.

"Wait. Minnie, what's it for?" asked Hermione reasonably. Minerva just stared at her as if she was about to say she was kidding. "Well I just got here; you can't expect me to know everything!"

"It's for the masquerade! Surely your Uncle told you, it was on the supply list we got in the mail. The dance is day after tomorrow."

"Well, anyway, what does your dress look like?" Inside, Hermione's excitement was building as she thought of all the people she could meet.

After Minnie had shown her a pretty blush pink dress, Hermione resumed her unpacking. As she neared the bottom of the trunk, she found purple gloves and a mask to match her dress. Hanging them with her dress, she followed Minerva down to the Great Hall. It seemed everyone was already at dinner, so she could walk down the corridors and let her mind wander. All the people she could meet in this time! She was excited. Taking a deep breath, she entered the wide doors. There were not as many people staring as she expected. Maybe that was because in this time she was not friends with the Boy-Who-Hadn't-Lived-Yet.

She sat at her usual place at the Gryffindor table, only this time she sat between Violet and Minnie. She had a rather enjoyable meal. As she had hoped, she met loads of people. Violet was, oddly, a pleasant sort of girl, and it was her that 'introduced' her to Rubeus Hagrid. Hagrid looked almost unrecognizable. He was small(er) and had no beard. At first she could not even recognize him. But he was still the same old Hagrid. ("It's nice ter meet yeh. Call me Hagrid.")

She was also 'introduced' to many familiar names.

Full and content, the girls headed to the dormitories. They took a short cut to avoid Abraxas Malfoy. Abraxas could have been Draco's twin. Unfortunately, he was twice as much of a prat.

Once they reached the Common Room Hermione sat down to do her homework. She finished faster than usual, perhaps because she had already done the assignment in her own time. She Once she had put away her book she headed straight to bed, not exactly dreading the morning, but not exactly looking forward to it either.

Tonight, Hermione was so tired that she fell asleep almost instantly. She only awoke twice from a nightmare, which was progress at the very least.

The next day passed in a blur to Hermione. She had gotten over her first day jitters, but was beginning to get very homesick. With the prospect of nothing new to learn, once again she felt trapped in this foreign place. Seeking some sort of familiar solitude, Hermione changed her course and headed down the familiar route to the library.

Once she was amid the familiar tomes and volumes, Hermione wanted to drown herself in the vast collections. Since she _was_ here, she decided to at least get some work done. She pulled_ Time Travel A-Z_ from the shelf, just in case she happened upon something useful. However, her mind was so overloaded that she felt content just to sit in her favorite corner and think. Could she do something that would make her sentence here not only bearable, but also useful and productive? There had to be some sort of information she could use when she- _if_ she returned to her own time. There had to be some way she could gain an advantage over Voldemort while she was here.

That's when it hit her. She would observe Tom Riddle. Just like Harry had been trying to find as much as possible about Voldemort's childhood in their sixth year. She would research him... even follow him if she must. At this point there was nothing she would not do to save her world.

Just then an even shocking revelation hit her. What if... what if Tom Riddle never became Lord Voldemort? What if... she got rid of him?

The thought appalled her. She did not even know if she would be able to. When she had first encountered him, even impulsively she was unable to do it. She would have to plan it very carefully. Tom Riddle was not one who was easily snuck up on. If she really were going to... _kill_ him, she would need a place that she could think clearly.

Hermione slowly got up, heading to the Room of Requirement. She felt like, for once in her life, the library did not give her enough privacy.

It so happened that at that very moment Tom Riddle was peering at Hermia Dumbledore from behind a bookshelf. Yes, to an outsider this scene would appear quite odd. Actually, it truly was strange. Tom watched from his hiding place as she rose slowly from her chair, leaving her book abandoned on the table. He waited until she was clear out of the library before he looked at the book she had carelessly left behind. _Time Travel A-Z. _Did she want to go back in time or something?

He followed Hermia out of the library, heading back to the Slytherin Common Room. What was that about? This wasn't a plan to challenge him, was it? Hermia Dumbledore was frequently on his mind, and more often than he would care to admit.

Tom scolded himself for becoming paranoid. Little did he know that it was a mutual feeling.

Little did they know that they were both following each other, and both becoming increasingly wary of the other.

Little did they know that their paths would soon meet for this very reason.

* * *

(A/N) Please review! I need to smile!


	5. To Meet at a Masquerade

A/N) Hey guys. Here is the next chapter. I know you are not reading this, but if you are, PLEASE REVIEW!

* * *

**To Meet At a Masquerade**

Tom was confused.

No one seemed to know the ragged state that come to the castle in. So far, this was what the cover story was: Hermia Dumbledore's parents had died and she had come from some country (no one seemed to know which) to Hogwarts to live with her uncle. Tom could see many gaps in the story, and he was determined to find out the rest.

With this in mind, Tom rose from his seat in the Great Hall. Dinner was almost over, and everyone was heading back to his or her rooms to get ready for the masquerade. He would find her tonight, and he would corner her. For the first time in, well, ever, Tom was excited to go to a dance. He would have to make sure no one could recognize him, so it would be the perfect way to gain her trust. First, he must make sure no one saw him leaving his dormitory. Absolutely no one could recognize him tonight. He would have to be sneaky.

After all, Tom Riddle was not placed in Slytherin for no good reason.

With a sigh, Tom stepped through the doors to the Great Hall. Even _he_ had to admit, the place looked good. It was all done up with magically hovering disco balls, and there were ribbons and decorations everywhere.

Now came the hard part. Finding Hermia.

Hermione was NOT a happy camper.

She hated dances. It wasn't that she did not feel pretty. It was that she had to fill the silence with mindless chatter when she would rather be studying. She had come up with a plan _ages_ ago though. Ok, fine, it was last night, but still. This was her brilliant plan:

Corner Tom Riddle. It would be the perfect time to find out what was up with him. No one could tell who anyone was, and that would be a definite advantage. She would have to be brave though. Facing the future Lord Voldemort and most likely angering him took courage.

But, after all, Hermione Granger was not placed in Gryffindor for no good reason.

Slowly, Hermione turned around and faced the mirror behind her.

She could barely even recognize herself. Her bushy, frizzy brown hair was smooth and sleek. It was piled in an elegant bun on the back of her head, and a few strands of curls framed her face. For the first time since the Yule Ball, she wore makeup. It was barely noticeable to a stranger, but it made a huge difference if you had seen her before. It was flawlessly done; the result of a makeup spell she had found in Violet's beauty spell book she had let her borrow. It would have been unnecessary because of the mask, but at midnight everyone would their mask and reveal their identities.

Next, her eyes trailed down to her gown. It was a deep purple and it fit her like a dream. It flared out flawlessly from the bodice, and it was as if the dress was for her. Her long purple gloves stopped right before her elbows, and it made the whole thing gorgeous and elegant.

When she stepped out of the bathroom, the first thing she saw was ten or so girls rush up to her, telling her how beautiful she looked. Just then, Minerva appeared, and they had a teenage girl moment jumping up in down and exclaiming at how pretty the other looked.

Minnie's dress looked so cute and perfect on her. The color pink looked lovely on her, and Hermione kept telling her so as she smoothed down the front of her dress nervously. The dance began at 9:00, and they were running late.

They put on their masks, and made their way to the Great Hall. Hermione carefully stepped down the grand staircase, praying that she did not trip on her long dress. As she entered the party, she was blown away. The decorations looked great! Minerva was Head Girl, so she naturally had done all the planning and decorating, but had refused to tell Hermione what it looked like inside. Minnie looked like she was about to burst with happiness as she saw Hermione's awestruck expression.

Hermione felt like everyone was staring at her, but she told herself she was being paranoid. She and Minerva stepped to the edge of the dance floor, and almost immediately two boys walked up to them and asked for a dance. They obliged, and both partners stepped amidst the crowd of dancers. The boy Hermione was dancing with was very polite. They began to dance, and Hermione realized that he was not the _best_ dance partner. He actually stepped on her toes once. Despite that, she had a good time dancing with the unfamiliar boy.

Tom was starting to get annoyed. He thought that he would be able to recognize her brown, bushy hair from a mile away. Just then, someone entered the Hall. It seemed like the entire student body had their head's turned toward the late arrivals. It was then that Tom's entire thoughts of finding Hermia disappeared.

She was... beautiful. Her purple dress looked like it was made for her. Her brown hair was glossy and shining. He longed to see who was behind the mask. She was by far the most beautiful girl in the room. He was shocked at his own thoughts, and, to be honest, scared of them.

He began to walk towards her, trying to look as if he was wandering aimlessly. She was currently dancing with some prat from Hufflepuff by the look of his yellow and black robes. When he stepped on her foot, she did not even wince.

Tom approached warily. He had never done this before. Tom knew that he would never get the chance to ask her between dances; he suspected boys would be all over her. First, he tapped the boy on the shoulder, and then the other boy stepped back confusedly. Tom took his place, and took the girl's left hand in his right. He placed his other hand on her waist, and pulled her toward him. They began to dance, and Tom was surprised when she followed his steps easily with perfection. Nobody knew that Tom Riddle could actually dance. But he had actually looked it up in preparation for tonight. He was becoming uncomfortable with the fact that he felt grateful for this now.

Hermione was shocked as someone actually cut in. No one at home would want to dance with _her_. The boy she was now dancing with was the perfect height for her. He was wearing emerald green robes and a matching mask. She had to admit he was just as good a dancer as she was. And she had taken dance lessons for a while when she was younger. The song was a waltz. He began to make more daring moves, and Hermione thought to herself that if he thought he could out-dance her, he was sadly mistaken.

He twirled her faster, until she was a purple blur on the dance floor. The couples around them had begun to stop and watch. They were that good. People moved out of their way as their steps became even faster. Hermione found herself actually having fun. She was hyperaware of how close he was to her. Almost everyone in the Great Hall had now stopped to watch. They sashayed and spun across the floor flawlessly so quickly that they were only tantalizing blurs. As the song ended, he leaned her into a dip and she tilted her head back.

They both stood up to discover the entire room staring at them. The usual bookworm part of Hermione wanted to hide from their awestruck gazes. She turned and started walking away. Someone's hand on her shoulder stopped her. She turned to face her partner.

"Wait- what is your name," he said. His deep voice was pleasant to hear, and she found herself falling into his deep gr**e**y eyes.

"I- I can't tell you. It's not midnight yet," said Hermione. But she too had the urge to find out who her partner had been.

"In that case let's keep dancing. That way I'll eventually find out who you are," he whispered.

And so they danced. Every few dances somebody would cut in, but they would always find each other after the song ended. Hermione found herself thinking about him more and more as the night went on. Sometimes they slowed the dancing down and just talked. They talked about school mostly-teachers and classes and upcoming projects. He was surprisingly bright. They discussed lectures by certain teachers, tests and homework. Not only was he a good dancer, but he was polite and intelligent too.

Neither of them noticed the time flying by. It came as a shock when the clock struck five to twelve. It was the very last dance of the night, and both students found themselves dancing in silence. She could tell that he did not want this to end either. It was a slow song, and both of them just savo**r**ed the other's company.

_Four more minutes to midnight... 3... 2... 1_

As the clock struck twelve, Hermione hesitated. Did she really want him to know who she was? Would the magic be ruined once the mystery was over?

It was then that the boy pulled off his mask.

_Tom._

After her initial shock was over, Hermione fled the room without even removing her mask. How could this night end so tragically? She almost wanted to cry. He had seemed so polite and charming, even if he was a little distant. Now it was all over.

To say Tom was shocked would be a lie. He had just had possibly the best night of his life, only to have the reason for it run away when she realized it was him. Typical. But she had been..._different_, and he was possibly even more disappointed that he had not learned who she was. There was only one option left. He, Tom Riddle, would chase after a girl. What was the world coming to?

He found her sitting on the bottom step of the Grand Staircase with her head in her hands. She looked so pretty, it was hard to believe she was the same girl he had actually had an intellectual conversation with. He realized that she was extremely smart; not many people could keep up with him, but somehow she had.

The girl looked up to see him standing there. She still had not taken her mask off. When she saw, who it was she cringed one other person had reacted that strongly to meeting him by surprise.

Catching even himself by surprise, he stooped down in front of her and placed his hands on either side of her face. When he removed her mask, his suspicions were confirmed.

"Hermia Dumbledore. I wondered." Tom's voice did not come out as cold and harsh as he had planned. "_Why_ do you hate me**?** I had never even seen you before that first day. Yet you continue to treat me as if you've always known who I am. Please just tell me what I did..." Tom's words trailed off into silence.

"It's not was you've done... it's what you will do," Hermione whispered. On that confusing note, she stood and fled up the staircase, leaving a thoroughly confused Tom Riddle still kneeling on the ground.

(A/N) Well there it is folks. Tell me what you think and review.

* * *

I don't know when I will finish the next chapter, but I will have it up ASAP. Thanks for reading!


	6. But Things Turn Mad

(A/N) Hey guys. Here is the next chapter. Let me know if you like it, hate it, or even if you just read it. In that case say something like, 'just read chapter 6' or something. Thanks!

This chapter switches back and forth in POV, so stay with me if you can.

* * *

**But Things Don't Go As Planned**

Hermione Granger was not one to give up. Nor was she stupid. Hermione knew that this entire event would somehow affect her plans. At first, she had thought that that she could turn things around simply by observing him. Now she was not so sure. Tonight he was not just unrecognizable in appearance, but in character also. Simply observing him from afar would not work. But she could not let herself get closer to him. No, if she had learned one thing from tonight it was that she could not afford to get close to him again. Yes, this had definitely affected her plans. She just did not quite now how to handle it.

Not wanting to be sitting alone in the dark Common Room when the others came back, Hermione made her way up to her dormitory and got ready for bed. She sadly placed the lovely gown back in her trunk, and put on her favorite white nightgown. After letting her hair down from the bun, she brushed her teeth before slipping into bed and casting the usual silencing charms around her. She expected to fall asleep immediately as tired as she was from all the dancing. Hermione lay awake for a long time without thinking anything, not realizing she was not falling asleep.

She rolled over onto her stomach, and was almost asleep when the door banged open and giggling girls filed in. They saw that her curtains were closed, and assumed she was asleep, so at least she was not pestered with a million questions before she tried to fall asleep again. To Hermione it seemed like ages until her roommates quieted down and finally fell asleep.

Finally giving up, she sat up in bed and leaned back against the headboard. She could not help the thought that were rolling through her mind. It seemed like she had watched herself dancing with Tom 50 times before she decided to get up and take a walk. From sheer habit, she grabbed her wand from her bedside table. Not bothering to pull on a cloak over her nightgown, she pulled on a pair of socks before silently closing the door behind her.

It was late enough that the common room was empty when she passed through. The fire had died down to the point where there were just a few embers glowing in the hearth. She then slipped out of the portrait hole. It was completely dark in the corridors, but she did not bother lighting her wand. She navigated the familiar passageways by memory until she found herself standing outside on the Hogwarts grounds. She stepped onto the grass, and her socks became wet and grass stained. Walking became difficult in the complete darkness, so she lit her wand and continued to the edge of theBlackLake. She transformed a pebble into a large rock and sat down on it, then stared out across the vast expanse dark shimmering surface of the water.

"You shouldn't be out after dark, Dumbledore," said a familiar voice behind her. Hermione jumped, but did not make any noise or run away like most people would have. She turned around and secretly wished she had made a noise or called for help. There he stood-the object of her thoughts for the past few hours. She could only see his outline in her dimmed wand light, but the fact that it was Tom made him appear even more frightening as he stood like a shadow in the night.

"You're right. I was just leaving," she said, standing up a little too quickly. She lost her balance and would have if a pale hand had not reached out and grabbed her arm to steady her.

"No, you can stay for all I care," said Tom hardly. When she proceeded to stand up- if not slower this time- he added softly, "Please stay." Hermione was shocked. Did he really just ask her to stay with him?

She sat back down slowly. Tom conjured a rock about the same size from thin air. For some reason Hermione got the odd impression that he was trying to impress her.

"I know you don't think I know much about you, but believe me when I say I know you are not who you come across as." Hermione wondered if he could even understand her convoluted sentence. He probably could not understand entirely, seeing as she knew more about him than he did.

He sat down right next to her. Tom suspected that she had somehow found out about his involvement in 'darker' activities. For some odd reason he found himself wishing that that whole subject had not been broached. He wanted her to know him for _him_, not for all of the things he did to earn his place as a Slytherin.

As if gathering some unseen resolve, Tom spoke. "Hermia, just forget who I am. I know you do not like something about me, I just haven't figured out what it is. But please, let's just forget that right now. Put out the light from your wand and let the darkness be the mask." Tom's voice got quieter and quieter as he spoke, but Hermione heard it all.

She did not put the light out, but she did turn away from him and stare back across the lake. She became aware of the fact that Tom was still staring at her. It was slightly disconcerting to know that she was sitting next to the Dark Lord.

"Ugh this is so frustrating," Tom said suddenly.

"What?" asked Hermione nervously. Something in his tone told her that something was bothering him, and that she should be wary. She felt something probe her mind, and she reflexively checked to make sure all her shields were up. "Stop it," she bit back at him, turning back towards him.

"How did _you_ learn Occlumency?" he asked.

"None of _your_ business," she retorted. Hermione felt slightly degraded by his tone of voice, and that might be why her reply came out nastier than she intended. In fact, she had taught it to herself in the few long weeks on the run from the ministry and Voldemort with Harry. Hermione was not one to be idle while skipping their last year of school.

"I was just wondering, your walls are quite strong, you must have had months of training."

"You could say that," she said, not wanting to give too much away.

Tom could tell she would not say more on that subject. He decided to broach the thoughts that had been plaguing him since she arrived. He hoped to catch her by surprise.

"Why did you come here?" he asked tonelessly.

"My parents died and I came to Hogwarts to live with-" she was cut off by Tom.

"No not that story. The real one," he said sharply.

"I don't know what you're talking about," Hermione said more confidently than she felt. "I came to Hogwarts to live with my uncle after-"

"Never mind then. I'll find out soon enough," Tom replied coldly. He was mad at himself for turning the conversation in that direction. The real reason he had actually approached her was _not_ to bicker with her. He suspected that, just like himself, she could not sleep.

"I doubt it," she sniffed.

Tom pulled out his wand and Hermione stiffened. For once Tom did not notice her reaction. She was put to ease when all he did was mutter '_lumos'_. He wished he had thought of an excuse to light his wand beforehand. His real purpose was, of course, to see her.

Her head was once again tilted toward the lake. It was as if she didn't want him to see her face.

Tom was shocked when he saw small tears running down her cheeks.

"Hermia, I didn't mean- I wasn't-... What's wrong?" He could not understand why she was crying. He had thought they were just arguing lightly, he did not see why she would cry about it. Unless this proved his original that she was weak and scared of everything. Somehow, he knew that this was not the case with her, and not just because she was in Gryffindor.

"It's n-not you," she whispered. She seemed unwilling to continue. For the first time in his life, Tom cared about another person was feeling. And that scared him, so he did the only thing he knew to do: He pushed her feelings aside.

"Well then you can't expect me to just endure your crying all night, Dumbledore. I'm going to bed," he announced.

"Goodnight," she murmured too softly for him to hear, still facing the opposite direction. True to his word, Tom stood up and made his way to his dungeon common room.

When Hermione was sure he had made it back to his room, she stood up and walked back to her own room. _That_ had not gone as planned. She fell into her bed and rested her aching head against the soft pillow.

When she had told him he was not the reason she was crying was actually the truth. That was just it. It was not _him,_ it was Voldemort. Tom Riddle was an entirely different person than Voldemort, and she was crying because she had finally come to a realization. Tom Riddle knew she was on to him, and he may not be dangerous yet, but he was becoming more so by the day. He had already killed a girl, and most likely his own father and grandparents. Who's to say that he would not kill her?

She needed a plan. But she was so tired that her thoughts became muddled until finally she sank gratefully into unconsciousness. For some reason unbeknown to her, the last image as she fell asleep was of her and Tom Riddle dancing.

The next morning did not dawn well with Hermione. She was tired from her lack of sleep the night before. She got out of bed and got dressed in her normal Hogwarts robes. She was somewhat mad at fate that she had potions first today. With Tom as her partner, things would surely not go smoothly.

It was quite the opposite however. Tom treated her more distantly than usual. It seemed like he was going to act as if the previous evening's events had never happened. Slightly relieved, Hermione did the same. She walked out of the class in a bad mood. Today Tom had bested her in potions. He seemed determined to prove something, so Hermione just let him have his own way.

This is how they proceeded for the next few weeks. They would always battle it out in potions, usually neither of them coming out the victor. They were more or less evenly matched.

It was odd how she fell into a routine when she had only been here five or six days, but she did. Soon the days began to blur together, and soon she found herself looking at the end of September.

The more time she spent in this time the more she came to realize the gravity of her situation. It was not like she did not have friends or anything, not at all. She became close friends with Minnie. The more time spent with her, the more Hermione could see of her future professor in her younger self. She noticed it at the oddest times too. Not only did Minerva love the subject of transfiguration, but also she seemed to have a crush on Hermione's 'uncle'. It was something Hermione had always suspected in her professor, and Hermione was a good interpreter of human behavior.

Meanwhile, Dumbledore had been informing her on a regular basis of his progress. AKA, pretty much nowhere. It really was not his fault, but still, she could not help but feel disappointed.

Tom remained as distant as ever. It was starting to really annoy her. She was not progressing at all with her research. She had not ever come up with a plan. Things were just too confusing. Hermione was surprised to find that Tom was not at all predictable. If one day he would treat her nice enough, the next he was sure to treat her like she was the one causing the world to fall apart. Ironic, isn't it. She had watched as he became colder and harsher than usual. 'Usual?' she asked herself. Since when is anything he does 'usual'? Anyway, she could see him begin to become even more powerful. He had now achieved what she had always thought of him as. He had his 'friends' around him, and he began to rise in popularity even more. He was the apple of Slughorn's eye, only slightly tainted by her. His charm got him everywhere. She began to take a backseat in class, only answering when called upon.

The first time Tom even acknowledged her outside the classroom was in late-October. Halloween was drawing ever closer, and autumn was apparent in the crispness of the wind. Change hung in the air, and Hermione could feel something coming. She was currently flipping through a book in the library for her potions report. Her two rolls of parchment were already crammed full with her tiny writing, but extra research could never hurt. She had been avoiding the common room lately. For some reason she felt distant from everybody. She could even be found some nights crying in the Room of Requirement. Despite being surrounded by a school of people, she felt alone, not completely of course, for she had Minerva and the other girls. But none of them knew what she was going through, and sometimes she just felt so stuck she just wanted to give up.

It was getting late, so she stacked up her books and charmed them to float in front of her. On her way back to the common room, she tripped and her concentration was broken, resulting in the pile of books tumbling to the floor. Frustrated to the point of tears, Hermione stooped to pick them up. She collected them all off the floor, and charmed them again and stood up.

Tom Riddle was across the corridor smirking. She gave him the nastiest look she could muster, forgetting that there were tears in her eyes.

"What did I ever do to you?" he asked almost playfully, but she detected some sadness in his voice too. Hermione did not miss the double meaning behind his words.

She chose not to answer him, fearing that she would say too much. She stood there, not moving until he had walked away. What surprised her most was not that he was talking to her, but his tone. It was almost... sad. She wondered if she had imagined it though. For the next few days, Hermione couldn't get his voice out of her head. What _had h_e done to her?

Besides the obvious... not much. The obvious being the Voldemort part of him murdering all of her friends. Besides that... like she said, not much. She realized that she had been waiting for him to do something terribly evil. But he never had. Not yet, at least. But despite her coming to terms with her prejudice, she did have logic on her side. She knew that he would become Lord Voldemort. It seemed inevitable. That was the only reason she had not yet taken action. She firmly believed that you could not alter time. So she was therefore content to observe him from afar. The most disconcerting part of all was that she found herself longing for their time together. She realized that the reason she was looking forward to potions was him. Hermione found herself glancing over at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall before meals. It was not as if she was becoming obsessed or anything, but she did find herself consumed by the mystery more often than not. She wanted to get to know him for different reasons than her observations. She wanted to understand him better. And frankly, that scared her.

If I get five more reviews, I will update. Thanks for reading!


	7. And Strange Things Happen

(A/N) Hi everyone. First, I would like to say that I am sooo so so so so so sorry. I have not updated in a LONG time. I really wish I had an excuse... nope nothing is coming to mind. Would you believe the classic, 'Well I was starting school story?' It actually is my freshman year. I guess you want me to stop rambling and get on with it. Well, here it is...

* * *

**And Strange Things Happen**

Halloween was upon them. Hermione was walking towards the library to further her knowledge on the theory of time. But she slowed down when she felt a prickling on the back of her neck, and had the all too familiar 'bad feeling'. During the war, she had learned to trust her instincts, so she proceeded with caution. Sensing eyes on the back of her head, she turned to see Abraxas Malfoy, Walden Macnaire, and Rodulphos Lestrange standing behind her. She kept walking, hoping that it was just a coincidence. Taking a left and then making a few random turns, she realized that they were still behind her. She turned to face them, drew her wand, and stood her ground. Not that she had a choice; she had walked straight into a dead end. She could usually get out of this sort of mess, but she no longer had Harry and Ron around the corner trailing a few paces behind like always.

"What do you want?" she asked sharply. Even Hermione Granger could not fight all three at once. Her wand flew out of her hand and into Malfoy's from a nonverbal spell she hadn't seen coming. If she had made that mistake in her own time, she would be dead by now. She had the feeling that they were not there just to taunt her.

Hermione was almost positive this was of Tom's making. She could not help but feel betrayed, even though she should have seen something like this coming. "Now, please tell us everything you know about our dear Mr. Riddle," Malfoy continued.

"We know you have been spying on him for your fool of an uncle. Tell us what you know of his... projects."

"If by 'projects' you mean 'Dark Arts', then you can save your breath. I still don't see why this helps you," she said.

"This can be easy, or it can be difficult. If you don't tell us what we need to know, you are going to come with us on a little... trip, and we'll see whether or not your uncle is willing to come to the rescue of his favorite niece." Hermione understood their plan. It really was a rather stupid one. Cruel, but stupid. She could not believe that someone as intelligent as Tom really thought it would actually work. No one in their right mind would kidnap Dumbledore's niece. It would never work. She wondered if they had even thought far enough ahead to what they would do if they actually could get Dumbledore to come and rescue her.

But then she realized—that was only the second part of the plan. They would try to get her to spill first. Hermione guessed that the kidnapping part was an empty threat. They hadn't really planned on kidnapping her. She began to feel uneasy, because she was not looking forward to the pain of what she knew was coming next. Why Tom would tell his followers about what had come to pass between the two of them, she couldn't understand. But she certainly had not realized how serious it looked to his followers. Maybe Tom thought she really was a spy. That must mean he was already into serious business.

Before she could even consider running, Malfoy had her in a full body-binding curse. She crashed to the floor unceremoniously. She hated this curse. It brought back images of the last time...

_"Crucio,"_ said Malfoy. She expected the blinding pain, but that did not undermine her suffering in the least. It was as if she was experiencing every possible form of death and torture at the same time. Through the haze of pain, she realized Malfoy must truly want to hurt her. Her vision began to cloud, and her mind tried to reject the agonizing pain.

But then, all of a sudden, the pain lifted. She felt herself drifting, but a sharp voice called her back to reality.

"Malfoy, what the hell do you think you are doing," asked Tom. It was not a question, but a statement. As her vision unclouded, Tom's face appeared in her limited field of vision. He looked... angry?

"What's going on here?" he repeated. They told Tom their 'brilliant' and he seemed to grow progressively angrier. Malfoy handed her wand to Tom, and Hermione was alarmed to find that they already addressed him as My Lord.

"You morons. Not only is that the stupidest plan I have ever heard, but it was needless. Leave. Now." His fury was so obvious that all three fled without another word. The second they were out of earshot Tom dropped to his knees beside Hermione. He undid Malfoy's hex in an instant. "Are you hurt? What did they do to you? Are you okay?" Tom asked alarmed.

"I'm fine, I had it under control," said Hermione slightly annoyed.

"Sure you were. You were simply waiting for them to close their eyes and turn around while you snuck away," snapped Tom. Hermione had lost her patience with the lot of them.

"You don't know me. You don't know what I've gone through." Hermione felt herself getting angry, and she could not have stopped if she had wanted to.

"I broke into the... Bulgarian ministry to save a life and fought his supporters while my best friend fought Grindewauld himself. I escaped out of the headquarters of Grindewauld by fighting a house full of his supporters. I fought in the war when he attacked... my school. I watched as he murdered my friends, two who are like brothers to me. I was the only survivor of that entire battle. I have fought him almost every year since I was eleven years old. I learned that he killed my muggle parents at the beginning of the summer. Yes I am a mudblood and I am damn proud of it."

Hermione finished her ranting breathing heavily and knowing that she had said WAY too much. She had absolutely no clue what his reaction would be. She would not have been surprised if he screamed back at her, walked away, or even hexed her. But what he did do she would never have predicted in a million years.

In an instant, he had crashed his lips to hers in a harsh and undying kiss. Hermione did not even register shock; she just threw herself back against him. She wanted to stop him but at the same time, she wanted to kiss him back. Then her senses took over her mind and she felt herself responding. She kissed him. Tom was so ecstatic that he pulled her closer, snaking an arm around her waist. Hermione threw her arms around his neck and let them rest there. With his other hand, Tom cupped her face in his hand. Tom had kissed girls before, but never like this. This kiss was almost unreal, like it was too good to be true. Her fingers tangled in his hair as they were both caught in a passionate and stormy display. As soon as it had started, it was over. Hermione took one look into his overly large eyes and ran. She did not even know where she was going but she ran like there's no tomorrow.

What did she just do?

If I get at least five more reviews I will update. Please subscribe!

I will be so grateful if everyone would give suggestions. It can be about anything: changes, errors, typos, thoughts, predictions, hopes, dreams... anything! Haha thanks :)


End file.
